Coagulation

the years pry deep into her skin. a crowbar digging against a lifetime of broken zippers. she calls for the clown, but the circus has moved on. she eyes the trapeze. remebering fondly how it feels to be caught.

forgiveness. the small bargains that we strike with big monsters. time. the series of eyes watch us as we lose our sight.

with nothing to hate. with no one to blame. she tired of the end. soft ribbons teased the edges as her boxes came undone. nothing inside of them.

little birds on tiny branches. weary wings tease the wind. they've travelled so far. to find nothing is different.

each hour stalks. soft boots in wet cement. the blood dries. the hole closes. still flesh insists. every choice is permanent.